Page 29 of My First Time Fling

I jumped when I realized Gigi had crossed the space between us and was now standing at my elbow, looking up at me.

“What? What are you—huh?”

“You didn’t really answer my question,” she said.

“I did too.”

“You answered it with words, but not your heart.”

“What does that mean? You sound like a fortune cookie,” I grumbled.

She smiled placidly. “I’m just saying that it’s okay to be nervous. And, if you want my opinion, I think you should just tell him.”

“What? What do you mean I should—I’m confused.”

How could Gigi know what I was thinking about? Unless I’d said something about nightmares and panic attacks out loud. Jesus, was I going so crazy that I was talking without even being aware of it?

“I mean that you should tell him you like him.”

I looked at her in shock.Thatwasn’t what I’d expected her to say.

“We’re just friends,” I said, shaking my head. “Really. We’re not, I mean, he’s not—well, he is, but I’m not—”

“Mark, honey, you know I love you no matter what. And no matter who you love.”

“Love?” My voice was strangled, coming out of my throat in what could only be called a squeak. “Gigi, I don’t love him. I’ve only known Jesse for a few months. We’re just—there’s nothing more—”

Gigi just looked at me levelly and waited for me to finish. I sputtered to a stop and realized how ridiculous I sounded, and she smiled.

“Is it that obvious that I like him?” I asked quietly.

“Only to me,” she said warmly. “Only to someone who knows you well. And remember, I’ve lived a long time. Some things, you just learn to recognize when you see them.”

I sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I can’t make that decision for you,” Gigi said. “That’s something only you can do. But I think you’ll feel better if you tell him how you feel. And from everything I’ve seen, from the way he looks at you, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Once Gigi had found out that Jesse and I were training for the marathon together, she’d insisted on having him over and cooking dinner for us. Filling us with carbohydrates, she'd said, before our long weekend runs.

Each time Jesse had come, he’d brought dessert, and raided a cabinet in the basement that I’d never noticed before. It was filled with liqueurs from the days when Gigi and my grandfather had travelled the world. Jesse had made up cocktail recipes on the fly and somehow everything always tasted delicious.

At first, I’d worried that he would rather spend those Friday nights out on the town or hanging out with big groups of friends. That’s what I’d been doing in Chicago, when I got out of the Army. It was how I’d met all of Gabe’s friends, actually. I’d tried to ignore everything swirling around inside me, pushing it down with alcohol and crowds. Of course, that had also backfired spectacularly, but Jesse was a different person.

For me, staying in and getting tipsy playing cards with my grandmother sounded like an ideal Friday night. But amazingly, Jesse seemed to enjoy it too. I’d been having so much fun with him recently, it was almost enough to counterbalance the nightmares and the pervasive sense of panic that dogged my heels. I wasn’t sleeping much, but around him, I could shake off the irritability. Around Jesse, anything seemed possible.

“I’ll think about it,” I told Gigi as Jesse’s car pulled up. “I promise.”

And I did think about it. I thought about it the whole car ride. Jesse was so cute, insisting on singing along to whatever song came on the radio, even if it meant changing the station every time we drove out of range. I was a terrible singer, but I joined in, just to make him laugh.

The drive from Savannah to Brunswick was only about an hour and a half, but then we had to take a car ferry across the water to Summersea, and drive another half hour to get to the far side of the island. Summersea was gorgeous, lit up in the afternoon sun like an emerald in a sapphire sea. Fields of wildflowers and grasses came right up to the edge of the road, which swept and swirled across the island like a rollercoaster

We talked about everything and nothing as Jesse drove, and I started to relax for what felt like the first time in a long while. Getting out of town had been a good idea, and Jesse was the perfect companion. I found myself opening up a little bit more about my deployments, and some of the friends I’d made who’d turned out to be real characters.

There were still parts of that time in my life that I didn’t like to talk about—or even think about, if I was being honest—but it was nice to be around someone who I knew wouldn’t judge me, someone I could just be open with. And Jesse was a natural storyteller, entertaining me with tales about growing up gawky and gay in Miami, and the trouble he and his sister Jenna got into. I could hear in his voice how much he loved her and his mom. It made me wish I had that kind of a relationship with my parents.

As we neared Tolliver, the little town where the Sea Glass Inn was located, Jesse began to talk excitedly about the bed and breakfast. He made me swear not to judge it too soon or too harshly, promising me that if I gave it enough time, I’d fall in love with it, too. I promised, but there was no need. The Sea Glass could have been a one-room hut, and Jesse’s enthusiasm still would have converted me.

“It’s just gorgeous,” he said, waving his right hand around to punctuate his sentences while he kept the left on the wheel. “It’s so unique, architecturally. You kinda have to look past the fact that it’s falling apart. But, I swear, if I could just get it fixed up, it would be amazing.”

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